


Kasurli

by plutonianshores



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22608235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutonianshores/pseuds/plutonianshores
Summary: Harry Goodsir didn't expect to wake up at all, much less wake up slung over the back of the bear that had eaten his shipmates
Relationships: Harry D. S. Goodsir & Lady Silence | Silna
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Kasurli

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snickfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickfic/gifts).



> Title means "Connect".

Harry drifted out of awareness lying in a cold tent in the mutineers’ camp, and came back to himself sprawled over something warm and furry, vomiting profusely into the snow while someone stroked a hand over his back.

He was supposed to be dead. The immediate past was blurred, but he remembered that much. He’d gone to sleep knowing that in death he would get back at that bastard Hickey, and instead he’d, well, woken up.

There was an entirely foreign joy blooming in his chest, something that felt both deep within him and completely divorced from his own emotions.

The person behind him began to hum, and a familiar voice echoed through his head.

_Calm. Be calm, Harry._

He knew that voice, although he’d resigned himself to never hearing it again.

"Silna?" His voice was hoarse, and talking was painful.

A jumble of emotions flooded into him, eventually clarifying into a few slow, careful words. _You died. I fixed it. This is…_ Silna’s voice trailed off, then came back with a word in Inuktitut he recognized as _consequences_.

He tried to sit up, but his spinning head quickly put a stop to that idea. Silna moved her mittened hand to his hair, and he let his eyes drift shut, half-convinced this was just the fevered imaginings of a dying mind.

  
  


The next time Harry woke up, he was curled against something warm and soft in a spacious snow hut. He slowly turned his head, and the white mass behind him came into focus as the Tuunbaq. He tried to scramble away, but the bear slung a paw across his chest and pulled him close. Its chest was rumbling, a deep growl coming from its half-open mouth. Its breath smelt of blood.

Harry froze, glancing around the room for any sign of help. He felt a twinge of someone else’s concern in his chest, barely noticeable over his own fear, and Silna came racing into the hut.

When she saw him, she began to laugh. _Friendly noises_ , she projected, the mental words broken up by laughter.

"He eats men," Harry squeaked, doing his best not to move.

Silna shook her head. _He eats enemies. You are mine, and so you are his._

He did have to admit that if the Tuunbaq had wanted to eat him, he would already be dead. "I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but could you tell me what’s happened to me?"

It was a long conversation in mingled English and Inuktitut and gestures and emotions, but eventually Harry understood the crux of the matter. Silna had saved him from death, and in doing so, she had bonded them together, a peculiarity of her role as a shaman. That explained the voices, and the emotions. Harry could share his own thoughts with her as well, although as he was still in possession of his tongue, it was less necessary. The Tuunbaq would defend him as it defended her, and although Harry still couldn’t bring himself to be entirely at ease around the creature, he had formed a cautious truce.

Silna had brought seal back, and once she persuaded the Tuunbaq to release him, she shared it with Harry. It wasn’t until that night, curled around Silna and the bear enveloping them both in its arms, that the full scope of his situation hit him. He was deep in the Arctic, separated from his crew, and he had no desire to return to them. Those at home in England would think him dead, and that was regrettable, but he’d rather lost his taste for exploration. The thought of staying here, learning from Silna and recovering from his injuries, filled him with excitement and a deep sense of peace. He could live like this. He _wanted_ to live like this.

Silna sent the impression of a smile to him in response to the feelings he must have been sending her way. Harry pulled her closer and shut his eyes, looking forward to what the morning would bring.


End file.
